Uncharted 4: The Betrayal
by nendwriter
Summary: When an eerily familiar figure returns, a surprising twist ensues, leading a betrayed Nathan Drake on his most difficult-but enlightening- journey yet. Rated T for language, violence, and suggestive themes.
1. Chapter 1: Tangled

How had his life come to _this?_

Nathan Drake sat before a small flat-screen in the living area of his and Elena's quaint apartment. He sat on the couch watching some terrible soap-opera with vampires. It was Elena's favorite show of late. Nate leaned over the back of the couch and watched her as she moved about the kitchen, attempting to cook up something. Nate just hoped she didn't burn the whole kitchen down in the process. She wasn't exactly known for being a great cook.

"Hey, Elena, do we _really _have to watch this?" Nate whined. He heard an annoyed sigh come from behind him.

"C'mon, Nate, this show's only on once a week. It's not like you have to watch it every day," she said as she made her way over to the couch with a bowl. She stirred the contents of the silver bowl with a wooden spoon as she intently watched the television screen. A man-apparently he was a vampire- was attempting to seduce a young girl into following him into a dark alleyway. Of course, the dumb girl followed him because of the fact that he _was _a vampire.

"Of _course_ she follows him. Who wouldn't?" Nate asked sarcastically.

"Shhh. I'm trying to listen."

"You'd follow him, wouldn't you? Just because he's attractive, huh?" He asked.

"Nate, shut up!"

"Oh, and because he's a vampire. Forgot about that aspect. That's important."

"Nate, clearly you don't get it, okay? But can you _please _just let me watch my show?" She pleaded. She had obviously grown sick of him lately. She had been spending more time watching her stupid shows then spending time with him. Nate sighed, and turned to peek what was in Elena's bowl.

"What on earth is _that?"_ he asked, scowling. She sighed.

"Pancake batter. I wanted to make something that I couldn't _mess up _on for once," she said. Nate made a disgusted face, and she stomped back to the kitchen and dropped the bowl in the sink. Nate turned around. "You know, you could at least _try _to appreciate me sometimes. Do you know where you'd be without me? _Nowhere!_" She exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.

Nate stood up and walked over to her. "Elena, c'mon, you know I appreciate you, it's just that-"

"What, let me guess, I'm too boring for you? This isn't exciting or dangerous enough for you?"

"No, Elena, it's not that, I just-" but he struggled to find the words. She stood there with her hands on her hips, waiting for him to give her some excuse. She laughed bitterly and shook her head.

"You just want to go on another 'adventure.' Do you think it's a joke? Is it like some kind of sick and twisting _game _for you? I mean, Nate, really, what is it that makes you want to jump out of the apartment window every five minutes? So you can go find some silly little treasure and nearly get killed?"

"Elena, c'mon, you know that's not what I care about right now."

"Oh, ohhhh, okay, not right now? So what _do _you care about right now? Because it certainly isn't me."

"Elena, of _course _I care about you! Why on earth would I have gone to the trouble of saving you so many times if I didn't even _care_ about you?" He exclaimed, agitated. She scoffed at him.

"Save me? You didn't _save _me, you threw me in with you into your mess of a life!" She yelled. "I never wanted to be tied into all of your shit! I thought you were different, Nathan," she said, letting the words sink in before speaking again. "I guess I was dumb enough to believe that after your last little adventure, you'd be happy with just...me. But I guess that's not the case," she said, and went into the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Nate was left standing in the kitchen alone, with the sounds of the TV behind him. Angry, he stalked over to the TV and punched in the power button to turn it off. He then stood there for a moment and took a deep breath. He had to talk to Elena. He had to save their marriage. He didn't know how, but he needed to.

He walked up to the bedroom door and knocked. "Elena? Elena, c'mon, you know I love you. Why wouldn't I be happy?" He heard footsteps and she creaked the door open so only her face was visible.

"I _know_ you're not happy, Nate. I can see it. I'm not that oblivious."

"But Elena, I _lo_-''

"I'm not doubting that you love me, Nate," she said more softly, opening the door wider. "I just know you're not happy with this life. You can't sit couped up in an apartment, or work a normal job. I _know_ that. And it kills me to watch you try and pretend like you can."

He looked into her eyes, and noticed they were tearing up. "Elena, I _am_ happy," he said, trying to sound reassuring. She simply shook her head.

"But you're not." He watched as she then walked over to the nightstand, grabbed her Iphone and purse, and pushed past him to go back into the kitchen.

"Where are you going?" He asked, and she stopped and looked back at him.

"You know I have work," she said. He made a face.

"Yeah, but _not _on a Saturday night." She then walked up to him, unsmiling.

"Nate, I think we both know this isn't working. We both want different things, and-and we can't live together like this. We're too different. I just wished we could have figured that out sooner."

"Wait, Elena, _c'mon,_ don't you think you're being a little...melodramatic?" Nate suggested. She gave a bitter laugh.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about. I don't think we can live together, Nate," she said. "Our marriage didn't exactly work out the first time, so I think we're just kidding with ourselves trying to make it work again."

"But Elena, that was my fault! I had cold feet after the wedding! Every guy has that! Look, we _can _make it work."

"I don't think you can _force_ a marriage, Nate," she stated, and with that, she was gone. Nate stood by the small kitchen island, scratching his head in thought. Her words had stung. He had to admit, though, she had a point. Although he truly did love Elena, he _wasn't _happy with this life. It drove him crazy living in the same, cramped place, doing the same things every day: waking up and making coffee, going to work at various odd and low-paying jobs, only to come home to an attempted-and failed-home-cooked meal. Him and Elena rarely even made love. They hadn't had sex for weeks, and even when they had, it didn't feel like how it used to. There was nothing _there._ He couldn't explain it, but both of them had felt unsatisfied afterwards as of late, and thus had apparently decided to stop doing it at _all. _Nate missed the point of living with Elena if they barely even got along anymore.

He trudged into the bedroom and searched through his sock drawer for something he had been hiding. When he pulled it out, he couldn't help but feel his heart rate increasing with excitement. He held the familiar brown leather journal for a moment, reminiscing upon all of the places it had been, all of the things it had gone through with him. He scowled as he remembered when Elena had found it on the nightstand the other day and had tried to throw it out. Why in the world would she do that? Did she really think that in throwing the thing out, his ever-present desire for adventure would go away with it?

He sighed, and then sat down on the edge of the bed, flipping through its pages. He couldn't help but smile to himself as he wondered what other coming ventures would fill the blank ones.


	2. Chapter 2: Meet & Greet

**Hey****, ****I****really****appreciate****the****reviews****. ****This****is****my****first****-****ever****fanfic****story****, ****so****I****am****totally****open****to****any****feedback****, ****concerns****, ****etc****. ****I****am****also****a****huge****fan****of****criticism****! ****It****may****sound****strange****, ****but****I****like****criticism****, ****so****don****'****t****go****easy****on****me****! ****I****noticed****most****of****you****are****concerned****for****Elena****and****Drake****'****s****future****; ****sure****, ****it****'****s****going****to****get****a****little****heavy****, ****but****it****'****s****necessary****for****my****plot****line****. (****Kudos****to**** "****Voice****of****Reason****," ****btw****, ****for****reading****my****mind****...)~ ****That****being****said****, ****I****don****'****t****want****to****give****anything****away****, ****but****I****'****ll****just****let****you****know****that****I****have****it****all****planned****out****, ****and****I****know****where****I****'****m****going****with****this**** :) ****Also****, ****if****you****don****'****t****like****it****, ****no****one****'****s****making****you****read****this**** (****I****think****...), ****and****I****'****m****sure****that****there****are****plenty****of****great****Uncharted****fanfic****'****s****out****there****to****suit****everyone****'****s****taste****. ****Thanks****for****reading****!**

_Three__months__later__..._

Elena trudged down the dark, damp street, with her arms tightly folded across her small notebook over double-breasted coat. Her flats made rhythmic _clack__, __clack__, __clack__, _sounds as she maneuvered down the pavement. She had begun to shiver as she felt drops of rain fall upon her exposed legs every few steps.

_I__should__have__worn__leggings__, _she thought despairingly. At least she looked better without them. It had been a long while since she'd actually dressed up. She looked down the street ahead of her and saw the bright sign that she had driven by earlier. It read "Rivendale Pub," and was supposedly the hottest place in this corner of London. She couldn't help but faintly smile as she watched a group of five or so well-dressed people enter the pub. All she wanted to do was meet some interesting people, have a few drinks, and have a good time to ease her from the overwhelming stress she'd been going through lately.

She wasn't exactly at a highlight in her relationship with Nate. They hadn't spoken for a week, and hadn't seen each other for several. They had had a huge falling out. Nate had convinced her to stay in their apartment together, but then decided that he wanted to go on yet another dangerous artifact excursion, and, despite Elena's voiced disapproval, he'd already made preparations for his trip. Nate would go without Sully this time, too, because Sully was recovering from a recent surgery on his gallbladder. After Nate had made plans for his trip, she'd decided to get away for a while and accept an assignment to cover popular locals' pubs in London.

Elena shook her head as she reflected on this and decided to forget about it for the night. When she reached the door to the pub she couldn't help but think of Nate, and she sighed. Elena then entered the pub and began to survey her surroundings. There was some popular English band playing on the pulsing speakers, and there was ample talking and laughing throughout the room. Groups of friendly-looking people were scattered about, with some people seated at the bar. She decided to head towards the bar, and ended up sitting at a tall stool between two solitary gentlemen.

Elena patiently waited for the busy bartender as she began jotting notes in her notebook: _Rivendale__Pub__: __lively__atmosphere__, __lots__of__locals__. _She inconspicuously observed the two men by her. The one on her right was sandy-haired and casually-dressed and looked as though he were a part of some band. For all she knew, he probably was. He had begun socializing with a young woman next to him, so Elena slightly turned towards her left to observe the other gentleman. This young man had tidy dark brown hair and was more well-dressed than the other man, wearing a black coat and a neat white shirt. Elena noticed that he seemed to watch his surroundings carefully, surveying each person that passed by. He wore a calm, if somewhat blank expression, and almost seemed out of place in the lively pub. The man wasn't particularly handsome; but, then again, she couldn't help but compare him to Nate, who wasn't exactly hard to look at.

Elena suddenly felt very hot and removed her thick coat, revealing a form-fitting but modest cocktail dress. She faintly smiled as she remembered Chloe's disdain at her not having worn it before, as she had claimed it would look fantastic on Elena. The poor dress had sat in her closet for years. Elena had to admit, Chloe had been right; the dress _did_ look good on her. No, it looked _great__._ She felt happy for a moment, but then the mood began to fade as she noticed she was all alone in this large room of people who all seemed to have someone to talk to. She suddenly wished that Nate had come with her, even though they _were_ she remembered the man to her left and took note of the beer glass in front of him. She decided to be bold.

"I'm sorry, but can I ask what you're drinking? I'm not sure what to order," Elena said politely. The young man sat straight up and looked over at her, seemingly surprised at her question. He hesitated a second before he spoke.

"I'm, um, I'm having the Newcastle Brown Ale. It's one of the more popular ones here," he replied. He seemed to look her up and down once.

"Oh, okay, thanks," she said awkwardly. Elena realized that she hadn't practiced making small talk with people for a long time, and was unsure of how to go about it. By the way he ran a hand through his hair, the dark-haired guy seemed to feel the same way.

"You're... American, I presume?" he questioned.

"Yes, I am. I'm from California," she answered.

"I've never been. You're just visiting here, then?"

"Yes," she said, and then added, "Actually, I'm here for my job. I'm a journalist-slash-reporter for a news agency, so I'm here on an assignment." He seemed to consider this for a few moments.

"May I ask what you've been assigned to cover?" He asked.

"Yeah, actually, I'm supposed to write about the most popular pubs for locals in south-eastern London. You know, the ones that they try to keep hidden from tourists," she added, and winked. He smiled.

"Ah, I see. Well, you have come to the right place. This place is really popular with locals. In fact, I have never seen any tourists come here. Besides you, at least," he said, smiling again. She attempted to hide her own smile as she looked around for the bartender.

"I assume you're looking for the bartender? Here," he said, and motioned with his hand for the bartender to come over. The bartender immediately made his way towards them.

"Oh, thanks," she said.

"No problem," he said. Maybe she imagined this, but the bartender seemed to give Elena a wary look before turning towards her acquaintance."Can I please get a Newcastle for this young lady? That is what you wanted, isn't it?" He asked, facing Elena.

"Oh, yes, thank you," she said hastily. The barman nodded eagerly and hurried over to make the drink.

The young man gave her a cocky smile before adding, "It's on me."

"Oh, no, don't. Really, I've got it," she said, embarrassed. He looked at her intently and said, "Don't worry about it."

"Thanks," she said. She didn't know what to say, and nervously played with the ends of her wavy blonde hair. She'd been growing her hair out for months, so it now stretched well below her shoulders. She continued to play with her hair until the bartender brought over her drink. She didn't hesitate to take a few sips, as she just wanted to relax. Relax, have a good time, and take notes about the pub for her job, of course.

"So?" The young man asked. She turned to find him looking at her with intensity. "How is it?"

"It's good. I really like it," she said, sitting up straight and tossing her hair over her left shoulder. His eyes followed her left hand for a moment with obvious interest.

"You're not just saying that to be nice?" He teased.

"No, of course not!" She exclaimed. "I'm an honest person."

He chuckled. He shifted his weight on the stool and turned more towards her, taking on a more casual appearance.

"It's nice to know an honest person for once. I don't know many," he said, and seemed to consider this for a moment as his eyes remained on her.

"To be honest-and I don't mean this as a joke-I don't know many honest people either," she said. He nodded, and she decided to press further. "Are _you_anhonest guy?" she asked. He raised his head a bit and seemed a bit taken aback by the question, but smiled as he thought about his answer.

"To be completely...honest...I'm _not_ very honest," he said. "I guess I could work on that a bit," he added thoughtfully. Elena nodded and then turned back to her notepad as she listened to the catchy beat of the song playing in the pub. _Catchy__, __crowd__-__pleasing__music__,_ she jotted.

"What are you writing?" The man asked.

"Oh, I'm just writing notes down about the pub for my article. See?" She said, shoving the notepad towards him. He read it and nodded, but hardly seemed interested. She continued to observe the others around her. Most of them were completely drunk by now, and had begun to laugh loudly. Even the blonde man to Elena's right had acquired a loud, booming laugh. She glanced over her shoulder at the blonde guy, taking in the scene: he was facing towards the young brunette at his side, playing with her hair. She giggled every so often, blushing a bright red and playfully pretending to shove him away. Elena hoped that _she_had never acted that way with Nate. It was almost embarrassing to watch.

"They're fond of each other. I wouldn't be surprised if they left the bar altogether and went back to his apartment," Elena's acquaintance observed. She lifted her eyebrows at his assumption.

"I don't really come to bars often, so... I'm not good at guessing who's gonna go home with who," She said, and nervously laughed. The guy was nice, but there was something to him that she couldn't quite place.

"It's actually quite easy," he remarked, then added, "I don't think I ever caught your name. I'm Edward," he said, holding out his hand. She hesitated before shaking it.

"Elena,"she replied. She thought for a moment. She probably shouldn't have given this man her real name.

"Have we met before?" He asked. He looked her up and down in an obvious manner. Elena wasn't sure that she liked this.

"Uh...no, not that I remember," she said, and pretended to concentrate on her notepad again. Edward took a generous drink from his beer. Elena fiddled with her own bottle, tapping her nails on the glass, trying to think of something to write. It had been a lot easier writing articles when Nate had been there to help her, giving her suggestions and providing her with witty comments to spice up her writing. She smiled as she thought of his ability to make light of any situation.

"You know, I don't know many Americans. But I must say, you're a _fine_ one," Edward said, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. She blushed a little, but didn't respond. She began to write an outline for her article on the pub."I haven't liked any of the other Americans I've met." Edward continued. Elena was now deep in a train of thought, and ignored him. "All of the other Americans I met weren't very...well... _cooperative__,"_ he said with a chuckle. He shot her a curious look, and she paused in her writing. _What__did__he__mean__by__ '__cooperative__?' _She shook her head and continued writing. "I really like this place. It's a great place to meet women. So...what do _you_ think of the place so far?" Edward asked. The guy wasn't getting the hint; she didn't feel like talking anymore. She just wanted to relax and write her article. She looked up at him wearily.

"It's...nice. I guess I could see myself coming here I lived here," she said, taking in the cool atmosphere of the place.

"And the drink? You like that as well?" He prodded.

"Yeah, it's good. It's different from American beer, but I like it," she said. She remembered when her and Nate would have a beer every once and a while in their apartment while they watched a sappy romantic comedy. Nate...

"And what about the people?" Edward pressed. Elena sighed to herself.

"The people? Hmm," she said, not really caring for the conversation. "Well, considering that I've only met _you_so far, I'd have to say that the people are...interesting," she said, and laughed to herself. He laughed as well, apparently mistaking her statement for a compliment.

"They are to your liking?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. She wasn't sure what exactly he was implying by this, but she had a pretty good idea. She realized right then that she didn't feel like hanging around this bar much longer. She pretended that she didn't hear his question.

He leaned towards her a bit and began to speak more softly. "Have you noticed the couple behind you?" He asked, glancing over her shoulder. She was surprised by his change in subject, but was thoroughly startled to find the couple eagerly kissing each other when she turned around to look.

"Huh. 'Guess you're right."

"Right about what?"

"That they'll go home together," she said, trying to avoid meeting his gaze.

"Oh, yes, well...I'm very _observant_," he said.

"Oh really?" She asked carelessly.

"Yes, in fact, I can probably guess the steps that guy's going to take," he said. She tilted her head, waiting for an explanation. He half-smiled as he watched the couple. "First, he'll help her with her coat, and then open the door for her. Then, they'll hold hands when they're outside, and then he'll help her onto his motorcycle, but not before sealing the deal with another kiss," he said, and his gaze met hers. His gaze was intense, and Elena felt uncomfortable. Was he trying to be funny? It wasn't working.

Elena heard the couple behind her stand to leave, and sure enough, she watched as the blonde guy held up the girl's coat and helped her put it on. As the couple headed out of the door, however, the guy didn't hold the door open for her; instead, it swung back on it hinges after the guy passed through and hit the girl in the forehead. She yelped, and clamped a hand to her forehead as the oblivious blonde guy continued down the sidewalk towards his motorcycle. Elena's mouth gaped in surprise, and she watched as Edward lazily got up from his stool and went over to the girl.

"Alright?" He asked. The girl, in shock, responded by removing her hand to reveal a bleeding cut on her forehead. "Uh... there's a bathroom in the back with a sink," Edward said as he began to lead the girl towards the back of the bar. Elena felt like she should help, and followed Edward and the girl through the throngs of people. When they reached the bathroom at the back of the pub the brunette ran into the bathroom and came out a moment later with a wet hand towel pressed to her forehead. She was muttering some curse words about the blonde guy. She then looked up at Edward.

"Thank you, that guy was a jerk. He didn't even notice, the idiot!" she exclaimed. Edward simply nodded and muttered "welcome." The three of them then stood there awkwardly for a few moments until -speak of the devil-they turned to see the blonde guy shove his way through the crowd towards the group. The blonde's eyes darted between the brunette and Edward, and then rested upon Edward to shoot him an accusatory glare.

"You!" he exclaimed, jabbing a finger at the man at my side. "I've seen you here before! You think you're going to steal my girl away!"

"Wha-"

"You took her away! You tried to lure her away from me, huh?' The blonde yelled in his more rugged accent. He was clearly in a drunken rage. A few people near the group began to watch the unfolding scene.

"_Lure_ her away? I was helping her," Edward exclaimed defiantly. He attempted to stand taller.

"Help her? _Help_her! Yeah, caz gettin' her to go home with you instead would _help_her!" The blonde growled.

"You don't want to be messing with me. This is a mis-"

"A misunderstanding, right? Am I right? That's what they _all_say!" The blonde yelled, throwing his hands in the air. Edward's hands curled into fists.

"John, leave 'im alone! He was trying to help me! You slammed the door on my face! See?" She exclaimed, holding up the blood-spotted hand towel and revealing her cut. _Will__I__ever__escape__blood__and__violence__?_ Elena thought with a sigh.

John, however, was apparently fed up with the whole situation. He took a step towards the brunette and raised his hand to hit her, but Edward savagely shoved him back. Edward glared at John. John at first seemed reluctant, but then slowly lowered his arm as he began to melt under Edward's unrelenting glare. John continued to glare at Edward, but then took a deep breath as he seemed to realize that this would be a bar fight he wouldn't win. John then let out a peculiarly animal-sounding growl and shoved his way back through the crowd. The brunette let out a long breath of relief.

"Whew, and to think I almost went home with 'im tonight," she said, fake-smiling. She glanced at Edward, who then nodded a good-bye towards the brunette, and motioned towards the front of the pub, looking at Elena. "Shall we?"

"Umm.." She didn't really want to hang out with this bar brawler any longer, and figured that she'd just leave. When they both made their way back through the crowd of pub patrons, Elena grabbed her coat and notebook and said, "Well...I guess it's time for me to get going."

"So soon?" He asked. She pretended to survey the pub and consider her answer.

"Yeah. It's getting late, anyway," she said. She began heading towards the door saw Edward hold it open for her. When she reached the cold outside she saw that Edward was standing near the doorway of the pub.

"You should thank me for not slamming the door on your face," he said self-assuredly. She pretended to laugh. This guy was more cocky than Nate had ever been.

"Uh, yeah...thanks."

"Do you need a ride or something?" _Would__the__guy__ever__leave__her__alone__?_

"Um, no, the place I'm staying at is right up the street. I walked here." It was actually quite a way's walk, and she had taken a cab to the pub.

"Oh, well, would you like me to walk you there?" He offered, smiling.

"Um..." He waited for her reply. She just wanted to go back to her room and write her article, but for some reason she didn't want to hurt this guy's feelings, despite the fact that he _was_annoying. Also, she would have to walk back, considering the fact that there weren't any cabs around, and she didn't exactly want to do it alone late at night. She sighed. It was at times like this that she wished Nate was with her. "Sure."

"I'd be happy to," he said, as if she'd insisted that he come. His arrogant smile bugged her as they began walking up the street. The rain was still lightly sprinkling, and Elena shivered as she felt it trickle down her legs.

"Are you cold?" Edward asked. He tried to offer her his coat, but she shook her head. As they continued walking Elena thought she heard footsteps behind them, and looked over her shoulder to see the barren sidewalk. _Huh__,_ she thought. After about ten minutes of walking her small hotel came into view. Again, Elena thought she heard the footsteps, and this time she turned completely around to look, but to no avail. The sidewalk was still empty. _Now__that__'__s__weird__, _Elena thought.

"What's wrong?" Edward asked, laughing. "Not scared of ghosts, are you?"

"Hardly," she muttered, and they continued walking. _I__'__m__just__being__paranoid__,_ she decided. Spending the past two or so years following Nate on his ventures hadn't exactly been great on easing her mind. Even at home in the apartment, Elena often found herself instinctively checking over her shoulder every so often.

As they neared the hotel Elena noticed several black uniform cars parked out front of it and parked across the street. She figured there must be some function going on there. They were nearly to the hotel when she heard definite footsteps behind her.

"Freeze!"

Both of them stopped dead in their tracks and looked wide-eyed at each other. Edward turned around. "Shit," he breathed, in shock. Elena then turned to see a dark-suited man aiming a hand gun at them. Edward slowly began to raise his hands from his sides, but Elena wasn't going to give up _that_soon.

"Come this way," the man ordered, beginning to walk backwards down the street.

"No," Elena said, but then heard footsteps behind her. She looked around anxiously, and saw yet another suited man pointing a gun. Edward saw this man as well and raised his hands higher in defeat.

"Elena, we better listen to them," Edward whispered loudly, beginning to follow the men. Elena scowled. _Nate__wouldn__'__t__be__such__a__pushover__, _she thought bitterly. She turned to the man behind her.

"Who are you, and what do you want?" Elena asked. The man simply shook his head and pressed his gun into the back of her shoulder.

"Get moving," he growled. She reluctantly began to walk forward. As the distance between them and the hotel increased, she realized that the two men were guiding Edward and her into a dark, wide alley between two closed shops. Her heart began to race, and it felt as if it were going to leap out of her chest. She didn't want to follow them, she wanted to resist, but she knew that it would be pointless; they were clearly armed and able. Elena realized that she wished Nate was there to help her. When she thought of his absence, she suddenly felt a tight grip of fear taking hold of her. She'd never been in a situation like this without him. As the two were forced into the alleyway, the two men stopped them, and waited for a moment.

"Now what? What do you want? Look, if you want to rob us, here-" Edward said, beginning to reach into his pant pocket to pull out his wallet.

"Stop! Don't move," one of the men said, aiming his gun at Edward. Edward quickly pulled his hand back out of his pocket and once again held his hands up. He glanced nervously at Elena, who was too much in shock to make eye contact with him. Then they heard several footsteps heading their way from the other end of the alley. A large, dark shadow from the building to their left covered most of the alleyway, so Elena couldn't see who-or what- was coming. She remained frozen in place and began to shiver all over. Not because of the cold, but because of fear.

"Thank you, but we don't want your wallets," A sardonic voice called from the darkness. Elena didn't recognize the voice. Who _were_ these people? An icy pang of fear travelled up her spine, but she still didn't move. She heard the footsteps grow closer and closer until a group of three men emerged from the shadowed alley. Elena took note of their appearance immediately. All three of them wore suits, and were similar in appearance to the two men who had led them into the alley. Two of the men before her wore red neckties, while the taller one at the front wore both a black tie and a seemingly smug smile. She guessed it was the man at front who had spoken, as he nodded towards the two men behind Elena and Edward, apparently signaling them to lower their guns.

"Who-who are you?" Elena questioned through chattering teeth, both thoroughly confused and afraid. The tall man's eyes came to rest upon her, and seemed to take in her appearance before speaking again. She noticed a long, crescent-shaped scar curving over his right eyebrow.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to come with me, Miss...Elena," he said in a surprisingly polite manner. Elena scowled, and took a step back.

"What? Wait-who are you?" She repeated. "_How_do you know my name?"

He took a small step forward. "Why, we've met already, haven't we? No?" He asked, half-smiling. When he received no reply, he continued. "I apologize, we have not been formally introduced." Elena held her breath as he extended his hand towards her. "My name is William. William Talbot."


	3. Chapter 3: Familiarity

I'm really sorry for the delay on adding chapters. I've been really bogged down with school work lately, so I'm doing my best to update my story and do a good job at the same time. I appreciate the reviews. Oh, and sorry about the technical difficulties on the last chapter- when I put things in bold or italics, the words somehow get squished together, so I guess I will be using only plain font from here on out! Anyways, I apologize for the delays (and errors) and I hope you somewhat enjoy the story. Also, please know that I'm always open to any feedback/criticism/suggestions that you may wish to voice...er...type. Thanks! :)

Nate sat alone at a table outside the neighborhood Starbuck's and stared at his incredibly slow laptop. He'd been waiting for the results of his google search for nearly eight full minutes. He leaned back against his chair and looked at the other people around him with laptops. All of the people seemed to have fast, functioning Mac laptops with shiny white and silver covers. None of the others seemed seemed unsatisfied or frustrated with their computers. He turned to stare at his dingy laptop's dim screen again, and groaned when he saw that the search bar meter was only half-filled. Would he really have to wait _another_ eight minutes? Nate was distracted by a passing girl with her blonde hair fixed into a bun. She immediately reminded him of Elena. But this girl was, of course, not as pretty as Elena. She probably wasn't half as tough either. While Elena had faced zombies, grenades, and even giant spiders without so much as flinching, this girl would probably have a panic attack if someone accidentally spilled her coffee on her silk dress. Nate smirked at the thought. Elena wasn't one for fashion or other typical girl-things; she was very nearly a tomboy. Nate liked that about her. But, why, oh why, did she have to go to _London? _Of all places, why _London? _The headquarters of his last enemies had been stationed there! He'd told her not to go, that it may still be dangerous, but, of course, she didn't listen to him. She'd claimed that it was for 'work.'

Nate leaned further back in his chair and rested his hands behind his head as he attempted to patiently wait for the dang laptop to load. He really did miss Elena. She hadn't been gone for more than a week now, but he still felt something was missing without her. The once-tolerable apartment now seemed like an isolated prison. It felt as isolated a place as Iram of the Pillars had been. Speaking of which, he was in the middle of researching the place. More specifically, he wanted to know more about the legendary hallucinogenic that it on earth had Marlowe's crew been so intent on getting the drug? They'd clearly already had their own powerful hallucinogenic's, so why did they jeopardize their lives to cross the Rub' al Khali for another one? Questions like these bogged down in Nate's head daily. It just didn't make any sense to him. Why would a four-hundred year-old secret organization allow so many members' lives to be lost over one stupid drug?

Nate shook his head and rubbed his temples. He knew it annoyed Elena when he blabbered on about this stuff, but she had to realize that this was important. There were so many things left unanswered, so many ambiguous things that pertained to this last feat. He could go on and on all day asking himself these questions. Other than his questions about the drug, a few things particularly irked Nate about the foes that he had come across. How did Marlowe know so much about him? Did she know his real name? Why hadn't she just had him killed in the first place? Marlowe's cohort, Talbot, also filled Nate's mind with endless questions. Why was he working for Marlowe? Why was he so affected when she died? Why didn't Talbot kill Nate when he had the chance? And who _was _Talbot, anyways? Nate felt an impending headache, and attempted to clear his mind of these troubling thoughts.

He focused on the cracked screen of the old, used laptop before him and saw that the loading search bar was now full, and the page was redirecting to the results of his search. "Yes!" Nate exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. He looked around at the surprised faces of the people surrounding him, and immediately felt embarrassed and out of place. Sighing, he set his hands back down onto the table. The page finally uploaded a long series of results for his search: "Iram of the Pillars drug legend." What surprised him, though, was that the top search results that appeared were from news websites, such as MSN and CNN. Nate squinted as he scrolled over the brief description of the first article:

"Commotion and Reporters in the Rub' al Khali: Reporters today are staked out at the site of what is thought to be the legendary city Iram of the Pillars. Over time, the city has been mostly submerged beneath the sand dunes, but an excavation site has been set up by a non-profit British archaeological organization. The lucky organization was somehow able to come across the ancient ruins by chance. Here is the interview from on-site MSN reporter Ken Bays, revealing the groundbreaking work the organization is accomplishing in turning legend to fact..."

What? Nate thought. How in the world...? Nate stood up and stared at the computer screen. What troubled him was not that the city had simply been discovered, but that it had been discovered by a so-called "lucky organization" that happened to find the city "by chance." The part that most troubled Nate was the fact that it was a "British archaeological organization." Now that seemed just a bit too familiar for Nate. Wasting no time, Nate closed the ancient laptop and left it on the cafe' table, not bothering to bring the useless thing with him. If this didn't prompt Nate to go and bring Elena back from London, he didn't know what did.


End file.
